Dreaming With Eyes Open
by YamiJessi
Summary: Seto is frozen in time by his own actions, he just cannot be the person he should have been, and he cannot even remember who that shadowy echo of humanity was.


Concept: Character introspective dealing with Seto Kaiba.  
Rating: G  
Summary: Seto is frozen in time by his own actions, he just cannot be the person he should have been, and he cannot even remember who that shadowy echo of humanity was.  
Notes: No, I don't own Yugioh, though I really wish I did.  
And this is a starting point that I was playing with, I needed to get a better idea of Seto's personality for another project I'm going to start shortly. Not sure how well it worked though. I'll be reworking this a few times I think.

* * *

The misty rain hardly touched his skin as he stood on the empty balcony overlooking what he might have once called his domain. Now though he found the words difficult to voice, they became trapped in his throat and frozen there, slick and mocking.

It was an odd thing, blue eyes being stilled in place by anything, much less by only simple utters of sound.  
And he hated the thought with all of what remained of his tired soul, because it meant he had lost once again. The worst sort of loss, not the type of monetary value that could be replaced or even the parting of false friends that left false aches in his heart.

This was a loss of power and stature, the sort of loss that cut him to the bone.

Because Seto Kaiba did not admit defeat, to do so would be admitting that he was not good enough. That sort of truth would be a sharp reminder of the fact that maybe the world did have him judged correctly; perhaps he was just as average as anyone else.  
He could not deal with being that, with being just one of the crowd, he had to be greater.

Too many people expected him to fail, wanted to see him lose, that was what kept him striving forward through pain and betrayal.

Hands running over the rail of the balcony as he thought, the cool trails of water that flowed under his fingers almost felt comforting, knowing that he was not the only thing left in this world that was cold. It was that chilled manner that kept him distant, the world stood outside his own frame of life.

Sometimes he fooled himself into thinking that life would be better, could be better, if he fell into step along with the bothersome bright-eyed youth and his friends. Then he would always remember that he did not need friends, because he did not need to lose them. The illusion was shattered quickly in his mind.  
Because friends only stayed around until they found some fault to hate, or some new interest to look into. He could see that much in Yuugi's little group; it was always easier to see the truth when one was looking in instead of looking out.

That group was close, they preached hope and kinship between them all, but Seto did not see it. He saw several people who were very lost and stood no chance of making it alone thrown together. People who swore on the good will of companionship in one moment and spent the next snarling at anyone who followed any path besides their own.

He had seen each of them betray the others at one point or another, but forgiveness ran as freely as water in that group because casting your lot with misfits was still better than trying to be strong enough to survive alone.

Seto refused to be that weak.

He could not allow himself the simple ease of idle conversation; it gave too many chances to let people behind masks. And people, he had learned, were very quick to laugh or reject any aspect of a real person that they did not wish to see.  
So he had longed for companionship more than once, but he was too guarded now to even feel like he was human enough to relate to other people.

And more than that he was terrified of the responsibility that came with friends, not because he could not handle it but because he knew that each time you gave a small part of yourself away to another you risked more than just being rejected.  
The risk that frightened him most was that someone might just get under his snowy masks and find the person he almost was, and that meant another struggle to find a balance between the ice and the humanity.  
It was the last thing he wanted to deal with, being alone was better than being stuck second guessing yourself for the sake of someone else.

He was not really heartless, and the word did sting him to hear it spoken about him outloud, but his icy exterior kept that truth hidden too well. So well in fact that even he sometimes forgot who Seto Kaiba might have been if life had not exploded around him. He did not regret that, much, just every now and then he wondered what else could have been waiting. But all he had to do was look over his personal empire to reassure himself that he had taken the right steps, made the right moves.

Or at least he used to be able to.  
But now even that felt doubtful.

He was under attack in so many ways all the time, his serpent sneer stayed in place at all times. His claws always curled towards the throats of his enemies, he ached for resolution.  
And at some point he had forgotten when he started to look upon himself less as a person and more as an icy blue dragon.

Because dragons took what they needed, they stood strong and fierce even in the face of injury and death. Dragons were wise enough to see the world without jaded eyes, and Seto had pushed aside his own childish dreams in favor of more stable ones when he was still too young to understand his own actions. And above all else dragons knew how to survive in places no man ever could, like the barren landscape of steel buildings void of laughter and dark offices chilled with the steady pulse of responsibility.

Dragons would do whatever they had to in the name of existence, they roared with power and faded with dignity.

Seto knew he was too frozen inside to be a man anymore. Just as surely as he knew that one day the ice would crack and he would find himself shattered for the final time, and left as nothing but an arctic winter memory.

But he did not fear that day, he almost longed for the moment when he found his freedom from the lifeless prison he had build up in his soul, the day the dragon could flex his wings unhindered and let go of the chains in favor of empty nothingness.  
Somehow it gave him an odd sense of hope, because painful life allowed dragons to dream, even if they had to with their eyes open to the dangers in the process.


End file.
